


No Shortage of Sordid

by FreshBrains



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Community: starwarskinkmeme, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, First Time, Hoth, Humor, M/M, Rimming, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5769922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Han tries it, Luke feels justified in giving him an entirely accidental nosebleed courtesy of his own tailbone. </p><p>You can’t just <i>spring</i> that on a guy, anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Shortage of Sordid

**Author's Note:**

> For this DW starwarskinkmeme prompt: [Whichever pairing of these you prefer (three options listed), second one listed as the bottom. No preference between established relationship or first time, or any other details really, as long as it's consensual! (Basically I just want a Jedi twink losing it while he gets eaten out)](http://starwarskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=248906#cmt248906)
> 
> Brief scene that could take place soon after _A New Hope_ in the beginning, the rest taking place before/at the beginning of _The Empire Strikes Back_.

The first time Han tries it, Luke feels justified in giving him an entirely accidental nosebleed courtesy of his own tailbone. You can’t just _spring_ that on a guy, anyways, especially one whose experience was limited to the person with the nosebleed.

“For the love of— _Luke_ , what the hell?” Han grabs around Luke’s general vicinity with one hand and clutches his face with the other.

Luke is already on the floor in a tangle of limbs and sheets, heart still hammering in his chest from a combination of surprise and unbidden arousal. “Your _mouth_? _There_?” His face goes hot just saying it out loud. Sure, he’s liked everything Han has done with (and to) him so far, and they’ve been more than adventurous over the past few months in their hidden place on Tatooine, but this is one thing he’s never quite put together as a possibility.

“Yeah, _there_ ,” Han says gruffly, tilting his head back. “What did you think I was gonna do, take a bite out ‘a you? You damn near busted my nose.”

“Well, what was I _supposed_ to think?” Luke hurries to the footlocker at the base of their bed to grab the medkit. He’s still naked, skin feeling sweet and tacky from hours of Han’s lips and hands, and if he said he wasn’t still hard, he’d be lying. “Out of all the places to put your mouth, that is _not_ one to go for without a little warning.” He sits across from Han. “Tilt your head forward. You don’t even need a bacta patch. It’s not broken, you baby.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll break _you_ ,” Han grumbles without malice, holding the gauze to his nose. “You really killed the mood with that one.”

“Oh, _I_ killed the mood? You’re the one who tried to put your _tongue_ in my _ass_.”

Before Han can respond, Leia stomps into their room, her hair sleep-mussed, the strap of her night-dress sliding down her shoulder. “All right, you two, that’s it. You’re both sleeping in the Falcon, and if Vader finds you before sunrise, I will not take responsibility.” She then points at Han sternly, inciting fear in both men. “And _you_. Ask first, you damn animal.” She’s gone just as quick, her door slamming so hard that Luke is surprised the clay hut doesn’t collapse around them.

Vader doesn’t find them before sunrise, but one of Jabba’s Twi’lek lackeys sniffs them out before they take off, resulting in a minor standoff and general unhappiness as they exit the star system. Conveniently, the topic of the night before is not brought up again.

*

There’s not much to be done about the cold on Hoth, and for Luke and Han, there’s not much to be done as Echo Base is constructed around them. They were technically the first settlers with Leia, Chewie, and the droids, so the Falcon was already set up in the hangar with everything else falling into place as Leia and General Rieekan brought the personnel in.

In the end, Luke is a pilot (and soon-to-be Jedi apprentice) and Han is a smuggler, and being underfoot has lost its novelty. So they keep each other warm on the Falcon.

“I think it needs a rest,” Luke murmurs into Han’s chest as Han’s hands drift down to squeeze his ass. “I know the rest of me could use one.”

“You’re young,” Han says, nuzzling into Luke’s hair. He hauls Luke in closer, pressing their bodies tight together. They’re both too exhausted to go another round, but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other either way. “You’ll bounce back quick.” His thumb grazes the crease of Luke’s ass where Luke is still slick with oil and come, making Luke shiver, but he doesn’t press any further.

Luke arches his back like a pleased felinx, chin resting on Han’s sternum. Sometimes, Han can’t handle the way Luke looks at him—even though he’s still young and naïve and a little bit bratty, his eyes are anything but. They seem to know a lot more than Luke lets on. “So remember that time I injured you during sex?”

“Which time?” Han cards his fingers through Luke’s hair and winks at him, even though he knows very well which time.

“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Luke whines, hiding his face in Han’s chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Han says, tugging Luke up so he can look at him. “I know what you’re talking about. What of it?”

Luke licks his lips, face going red. “I just…I’ve been thinking about it.” He moves to the side to curl on next to Han on the narrow bed, still looking him in the eye.

Han’s cock twitches pitifully to life, and he’s half a second from verbally willing it away so Luke doesn’t think he’s a total jackass. “…good thoughts?”

Luke huffs out a laugh. “Maybe. Curious thoughts.”

“Imagine that, Luke Skywalker, _curious_ ,” Han says, rolling his eyes. His cool façade is broken when Luke wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him loose and slow, just teasing on the edge of friction. “You’re playing dirty.”

“Yeah, _I’m_ dirty,” Luke says, grinning into Han’s neck. “So tell me, why we’re discussing it. Have you…done that before?”

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” Han chokes out, arching into Luke’s hand. He’s practically _sore_ , all they’ve been doing is screwing around for a week and his body is _tired_ , damn it, but Han Solo is no quitter. “I didn’t invent it.”

“How many times?” Luke bites down gently on the slope of Han’s jaw, soothing it with a wet kiss.

“More than once, less than ten,” Han throws out, feeling okay about the numbers. “It’s not like I make a _habit_ of it. It just happens.” _Like that time you jerked me off in the cockpit of the Falcon and I almost warped us into another dimension_ , Han wants to say, but knows a little better by now. “Whole lotta questions for someone with a cock in their hand.”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Luke says sweetly, shooting Han the sort of wicked, shit-eating grin Han fears and loves in equal measure. His pulls away his hand, drawing a groan from Han. “Do you like doing it?”

“Yes, _blast_ , yes, I like doing it,” Han says, and flips their positions in flurry of limbs and surprised gasps, pinning Luke to the bed. He’s relieved to feel that Luke is hard, too—probably just from _thinking_ about it, wondering what it would feel like. He kisses Luke, slow and dirty, swallowing Luke’s groans as their bodies move together.

“Tell me,” Luke gasps when they part, lips red and kiss-bitten. “Tell me why you like it.”

“What’s not to like?” Han pushes himself up on his hands so he can trap Luke in the strong cage of his arms, look down at his young, handsome face, at the flush of curiosity tinged with dirtiness in his eyes. “Having someone at your mercy. Being so close to someone you can _taste_ them, feel them. And trust me,” he says before leaning down for another kiss, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip, “nothing makes you go wild like having a mouth down there.” He rolls his hips, urging Luke to wrap his legs around his waist.

“Has someone done it to you?” Luke almost looks _jealous_ , which Han, of course, loves.

“Oh, yeah,” Han says, trying for casual and failing. “So I know how good it feels. But I’d prefer being the one,” he pauses as their bodies shift so he can reach down and squeeze Luke’s ass, “to eat you out until you’re _sobbing_ for it.” As he says it, he presses his thumbs against Luke’s hole, still tender and wet from earlier, and Luke comes like he’s been electrocuted, body bowing off the bed.

“I think,” Luke says, panting against Han’s arm, “I might want to try it sometime.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Han says, sliding a finger through Luke’s come that splattered in his chest all the way up to his neck. “Clean me up.”

“Gross,” Luke says, and complies.

*

Hoth is still cold, the base is still rising around them, the princess is still anxious, Han still feels useless, and Luke is having the absolute best day of his life, which, in turn, makes Han feel a little bit less useless.

“I don’t,” Luke says, or more like _wheezes_ , hands white-knuckled where they’re gripping the durasteel bed-frame, “I don’t _get_ it, how can…” He sinks his back into a deep arch, body taut and gleaming with sweat, even though the room is still chilly.

Han knows this is the perfect time for a ridiculous response, but at the moment, his mouth is occupied in its rightful place. Since he _is_ Han Solo, he pulls back for a moment. “How can it rock your entire planet, kid?”

“Don’t _stop_ ,” Luke says, voice frantic. His head drops down between his shoulders. “Keep going.”

“Have to look at you for a sec,” Han says, and he sits up on his knees, and _looks_. He knew Luke would be perfect like this—his tight little ass covered in bite marks and bruises from Han’s mouth, his hole slick and red and dripping with spit, clenching in the coolness of the room when Han moves away. There’s a definite spread of beard-burn at the curve of his ass, close to his thighs, and Han feels weirdly proud of it. He spreads Luke’s ass with his thumbs, listens to Luke groan. “You love this. What did I tell you, huh?”

“Then _do_ it,” Luke whines, wriggling back for more friction, more heat, more of _Han_ , and what kind of guy would Han be if he didn’t listen? He moves back down on the bed, grasps Luke’s hips, and tugs him back onto his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressed hard against Luke’s hole, rubbing against the tight clench of him. Luke’s legs instantly give out, and Han holds him up. “I’m gonna,” Luke says, voice hitching, “I’m gonna—“

 _He’s gonna go off without my hand on his cock, and this is actually happening and_ not _some weird Force-dream garbage_ , Han thinks, his own cock throbbing at the thought, but this isn’t about him. Someday, he’s going to lie back on the bed and have Luke ride his face so hard he can’t breathe, have him take his pleasure how he wants it.

“Oh, _stars_ ,” Luke says, and comes, body clenching, reaching back with one hand to bury Han’s face in his ass. Han rides it out with him, easing off slowly, keeping him nice and wet and slick.

“You snuck in and _listened_ ,” Han pants when he pulls away, trying to be accusatory, but mostly not caring—it _was_ a pretty hot thought, so good for him. Luke’s Jedi Force-stuff is still pretty clumsy, but when he wants to know something, he’ll find it. Han wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist and works his jaw a little. He’s sore and it’s a good feeling. “Roll over, let me kiss you.”

“That’s probably not hygienic,” Luke says, like a total nerd, but he’s always good for a kiss after a fuck, the sentimental bastard, so Han gives him a good one. “Let me,” Luke murmurs breathlessly against his lips, reaching down for Han’s cock, but Han just grabs his wrists and presses him back to the bed.

“I’m good, kid. This was all you.” He cradles Luke’s face in his hands, tilts his chin just so, getting a good eyeful of his guy. “You could fall asleep right now. It’s a good look on you.”

Luke rolls his eyes, but he’s too fucked-out to do anything but smile. “You were right. It was good.”

“I’m always right,” Han says, flopping down on the bed next to Luke, tugging him close. There’s a wet spot beneath his hip, but Han’s too pleased to give a shit until they wake up stuck to the bed in the morning.

Luke yawns. “Han?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, I want to try it on you.”

“Sure thing. Give me fifteen minutes.”


End file.
